Last Chance
by Cleo the Muse
Summary: Area 52 Challenge 599. Unable to bear Jack's continued antagonism, Daniel resigns from the SGC and heads for Chicago. Deciding to take the back roads, he finds himself making a stop in Last Chance, Colorado. JackDaniel preslash.


**Last Chance** by Cleo the Muse  
PG  
Pre-Slash (Jack/Daniel), Angst, Romance, Smarm  
Warnings: Minor swearing  
Episodes: Set a few months after "The Curse". Spoilers for "The Curse" and "Divide and Conquer". Teensy-weensy bit of foreshadowing for "Meridian" and a reference to information from "The Lost City".  
Synopsis: Area 52 Challenge #599: Unable to bear Jack's continued antagonism, Daniel resigns from the SGC and heads for Chicago. Deciding to take the back roads, he finds himself making a stop in Last Chance, Colorado.  
Notes: Un-betaed, since my usual beta was the _issuer_ of the challenge.  
Status: Completed as of August 23, 2007

* * *

**Last Chance**

_"[People don't make mistakes because they don't care, but because they care so deeply."  
__— paraphrased from T. Berry Brazelton, _Touchpoints

The small, efficient sedan cruised down the old state road, kicking up dried bits of grass leftover from the highway department's mowing efforts earlier in the month. The air was dry, warm, and pleasantly free of allergens, and Daniel Jackson had rolled down the windows to enjoy it to full effect. It wasn't often he took the back roads, since he usually had a deadline to be somewhere, which meant taking the Interstate.

Today, he had no deadline, no agenda, no plan, no mission, _nothing_. Today he was just Daniel Jackson, not an archaeologist, anthropologist, linguist, historian, diplomat, or thorn-in-the-military's side. He wasn't anyone's son, husband, or best friend—not anymore—but a free man, his own man.

Just this morning, he'd helped the movers box up the last of his belongings from his apartment, to be held in storage until he sent for them. His journals and most-precious keepsakes were stored in the car's trunk and back seat, along with about a week's worth of clothes. So long as he found a laundromat every six or seven days, Daniel figured he could just keep driving until he was out of money—which wouldn't be for a long time, given how well the U.S. Government had paid him to raid tombs, hand friends and family over to the Goa'uld, and thwart the Pentagon's efforts to gain advanced alien technology.

The eventual goal was to head to Chicago, but where he went from there was anyone's guess. With Doctor Jordan dead and Sarah Gardner... missing, Stephen Raynor was having a hard time keeping up with the workload for Daniel's old department at the Oriental Institute. A few weeks back, Stephen had called and practically begged his one-time rival to quit his job in Colorado and come back to work with him. Daniel might still oblige Stephen, he might not, but either way, Cheyenne Mountain was already a hundred miles behind him.

His original plan took him up US-24 from Colorado Springs to I-70, then I-70 into Kansas before grabbing US-83 to I-80. From there, it was I-80 all the way to Chicago, a sixteen hour drive plus a stopover in Omaha for the night. It wasn't until he got to the Interstate that he realized he really didn't _have_ to be in a hurry to be anywhere. For the first time in a long time, he could set his own pace.

He kept driving. After ten minutes, Daniel decided he needed to find somewhere to pick up a map of state roads, so that he wouldn't spend the rest of eternity wandering the innumerable state and county roads of the Great Plains. Five minutes later of straight road and flat, featureless terrain, he decided that a mere state map wouldn't suffice: he needed an entire _atlas_. Once he finally crossed the state border into Kansas—or maybe even Utah—he'd need to be able to find his way around there, too.

Up ahead, the distorted air hovering just above the pavement finally revealed what looked like a small town. Luck seemed to be with him, as there was a pair of gas stations across from one another on the road and he figured that either one would be as good a place as any to find a map or atlas. His stomach rumbled to remind him he'd skipped breakfast this morning in his haste to get started, so he pulled into the parking lot for the one on the right-hand side of the road.

The gas station boasted a small deli and a pair of tables, and Daniel soon found himself ordering a sandwich, a small side, and a coffee that actually tasted pretty good without needing to be loaded up with sugar. He even casually flirted with the cute girl behind the counter, though it wasn't his usual style—especially since she couldn't have been much older than her early twenties and he wasn't really interested anyway. Finally, he bought a _Rand McNally Road Atlas _and took up station at one of the tables, prepared to enjoy his food, freedom, and the myriad choices he had for getting from point A, Colorado Springs, to point B, Chicago.

His cell phone rang almost as soon as he'd sat down, and he glanced at the screen in annoyance. He'd half expected Jack to call by now, if only to yell at him for turning in his resignation and walking away from the SGC. In fact, _any_ response from Jack would have been preferable to just being let go without question. His relationship with the older man had been rocky at best for many months and Daniel worried that he had been the one to inadvertently hammer the final nail into the proverbial coffin.

_"Yep, I think these are the Jack O'Neill moments I would probably miss the most," he smiled._

_Jack stared. "What?"_

_"What?" Daniel echoed, struggling to keep his amusement in check. If it wasn't for the fact that Jack and Sam could very well _die_ from this _za'tarc _business, he might feel a little more like indulging in his levity. Things had been... tough... between him and Jack for a while, yet they were finding themselves on a more even keel only when the older man was in a situation which could drastically affect his future physical and mental well-being._

_But instead of being able to stay with his friends through their desperate hours, Daniel was forced to dress in an uncomfortable suit and play the part of the charming diplomat. It was his and Martouf's cooperative efforts that had brought about the final, mutually acceptable version of the treaty that would soon be formally signed by the Tok'ra High Councilor and the President of the United States._

_Daniel, despite being forced into the role on a number of occasions, never considered himself to be a diplomat. In fact, if anyone were to ask him about his part in the formation of the treaty, he'd gladly tell them that he'd blatantly ripped most of the terms and wording from the work of Elizabeth Weir, an internationally-respected United Nations negotiator._

_Next time, they could just hire Doctor Weir to do the job herself and leave Daniel out of it._

_"Admit it," Jack began, "you'll be pining for my charming personality in no time, not to mention my rugged good looks."_

_"Those aren't the only things I love about you, Jack," Daniel answered, then felt the blood drain from his face._

_"'Love'?"_

_"I have to go," he quickly covered, mortified that he'd let the forbidden "L" word slip out like that. Some diplomat _he_ was._

_"Daniel..." Jack sighed, an unreadable expression on his face._

_It wasn't until a week later that Teal'c told Daniel about Jack and Sam's last-minute confessions._

The cell phone beeped at him, and Daniel blinked, realizing that he'd stared vacantly at the device as it rang. The girl behind the counter was looking at him with curiosity, and he flushed in embarrassment as he pressed the button to retrieve his voice mail.

It was Stephen, wanting to know if Daniel was still planning to come help him for the rest of the semester, and would he possibly, _please_ consider picking up a few summer classes, too. Oh, and to give him a call back to let him know when he expected to be in Chicago, thanks.

Sighing, Daniel dialed his colleague's number and waited for it to connect. The harried-sounding voice which answered made him smile for a brief moment of guilty self-satisfaction before he remembered why Stephen was under so much stress. "Hey, it's Daniel," he began. "I'm going to need a little bit of time to adjust between jobs."

"Oh," Stephen drew out, disappointment coloring his voice. "Uh, how many months?"

Despite himself, Daniel chuckled. "This isn't a sabbatical, Stephen, it's a break. A few weeks, max. I'm driving all the way to Chicago, and I thought I'd take the scenic route to help me unwind."

"Do you think you can be here by the start of the summer term? The board's coming down on me pretty hard to fill... uh, the vacancies. If I don't have the contracts signed by the beginning of the summer term, they're not going to do it themselves, and I probably won't even get Doctor Jordan's position. Then there's class assignments, Weingarten's retirement, Smithson's dig this winter, Mueller's—"

Daniel blew out a breath. "I'll give you a call before I get there, okay? I'm sorry, but I can't make any kind of commitment right now, but it... Well, it's been five years since I last taught, and our so-called peers aren't likely to welcome me back with open arms."

There was a pause, then Stephen began to speak a little more slowly. "You know, I wish that amulet had been found. It would have served a whole bunch of those guys right to have proof that you were right about the pyramids and Egyptian society being far older than anyone guessed. That whole 'aliens built the pyramids' thing was something Weingarten started to try to get you cast in the same light as von Däniken and Kolosimo."

That was true enough, except that Daniel had suspected an outside society's formative influence on the primitive Egyptian culture. He'd never in his wildest dreams imagined that influence to be in the form of body-snatching extraterrestrial snakes with enormous egos and a tendency to believe in their own propaganda.

That would be the other thing about returning to his former profession that gave Daniel pause: the Stargate program was still classified. Because he couldn't share his discoveries from the last five years, he'd be forced to perpetuate the falsehoods unknowingly espoused by archaeological society. He'd have to screen his lecture notes and watch his words carefully to keep from accidentally sharing information the world wasn't ready to know.

Still, he appreciated Stephen's support, especially since he and the other archaeologist had once been rivals. For what and why, he had never been sure, but had chalked it up to Stephen possessing a competitive nature. Some of that competitiveness seemed to have been knocked out of him by Osiris' attack, though, and Stephen and Daniel's relationship was being forged anew by adversity, much as Abydos had for Jack and...

Well, it was best not to dwell on some things.

"Hey, Daniel, you still there?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, Stephen. Sorry about that, my mind was wandering off on its own again... I should get it a leash or something, right?" He laughed nervously. "Look, I think it would be best if I stuck with linguistics for a while. That's mainly what I've been doing for the government for the last five years, though I can't give you any specifics."

"So that's a 'yes'? You'll take some classes?"

Daniel smiled and shook his head, though his colleague couldn't possibly see it. "That's still a 'maybe'."

Stephen sighed. "All right, Daniel, I get the picture. Gimme a call as soon as you decide something, okay? I don't... I'd really like to work with you again, but I guess I can try to find somebody else."

"I'll let you know. And Stephen? Thanks."

"Thanks for coming after me. If you and your friends hadn't followed me to Egypt, I'd probably be dead like Sarah."

As Daniel hung up the phone, he winced, hating the magnitude of the lie that had been casually delivered to his fellow archaeologist regarding the sudden disappearance of their mutual friend, Sarah Gardner. If Sarah was ever freed from Goa'uld control—and Daniel wasn't going to fool himself by thinking "when" like he had for Sha're—then a new story would have to be fabricated to explain her sudden reappearance.

Taking a sip of his cooling coffee and shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Daniel turned his attention to his sandwich and his road atlas. Flipping through the pages as he ate, he found the page for Colorado and began running his finger along the line representing US-24 out of Colorado Springs. It met up with Interstate 70 at Limon, Colorado, but Daniel had meandered through town until he met up with State Road 71, which he had then followed for the last thirty miles or so.

"Which town is this?" he asked aloud, looking up at the gas station attendant.

"Last Chance," she answered, rearranging the displays of candy and novelties on the counter. "If you go up the road a little further, you'll come to the intersection of State 71 and US-36." She shrugged. "They run right through the center of town."

"So the town was built _because_ of the roads."

"Yeah, I guess."

Daniel, student of human culture that he was, could guess that this little town had gotten its name as a possible "last chance for gas" before hitting the open plains to the east. Or maybe it was a "last chance supply outpost" for wagon trains heading west, though he doubted it since Denver was so much closer to the mountains. Maybe it had been some poor soul's last chance to turn back before he made a mistake he might regret for the rest of his life.

Resolutely, Daniel shook his head, glancing at his watch. Jack and the rest of the team had had nearly three hours from the time the resignation papers hit General Hammond's desk, but his cell phone had been disturbingly silent. It was heartbreaking, and yet only strengthened his conviction that leaving was his only recourse.

Draining the last dregs of his coffee, Daniel gathered his trash and rose to dispose of it in the receptacle near the soda fountain. Behind him, the front door of the gas station _ding_ed cheerfully, and he turned to collect his wallet, cell phone, and atlas from their resting places on the table. Instead, he froze mid-motion, startled by the very recognizable silhouette in the doorway.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

The colonel took off his sunglasses with deliberate slowness, folding them and clenching them in his right fist. "I'm glad I caught up to you."

The cool tone didn't _sound_ very glad. "How'd you find me?"

"Carter... she tracked your cell phone signal for me. And... I just followed my gut instinct."

"Really." Daniel pressed his lips together, wondering whether or not to be upset that Jack had had him tracked.

Jack shrugged. "I had to talk to you in person." He looked up at the attendant. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

She shook her head. "No, but there's a picnic table out back we use for smoke breaks."

He nodded tersely, then unfolded his sunglasses, pausing in the act of putting them back on. "I really _do_ have to talk to you, Daniel."

"Better late than never," Daniel replied dryly, gathering up his belongings.

The picnic table was on the building's east side, facing a large field. Daniel sat down on one sun-warmed bench, but Jack remained upright, pacing across the concrete patio. "To be honest, I'm not sure where to start," he began nervously.

"'I'm sorry for being an ass' sounds like a great start to me," Daniel answered, refusing to pull punches. Diplomacy had never gotten him anywhere, it seemed.

"There's that," Jack agreed. "'I'm sorry for treating you like shit' was closer to what I had in mind, but either-or." Exhaling, he scrubbed his hands through his hair. "The worst part is, I know when I started and why I thought it was a good idea at the time... and damn it, Daniel, I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, too."

"It was when I said—"

"I know... and it couldn't have come at a worse time."

Daniel's eyebrows raised. "You mean just before you realized you were in love with Sam?"

"What?"

Unable to look at the man he... loved, Daniel stared down at his hands, pressed flat against the table's surface. "Teal'c... uh, Teal'c told me what happened... with the _za'tarc_ detectors."

"Well the big guy told you wrong. I said I _cared_ about Carter... a lot more than I'm supposed to."

The archaeologist blew out a huff of air. "Oh. Well then, that makes all the difference, doesn't it?"

Jack frowned. "I care about _all_ of you a lot more than I'm supposed to. If the SGC was an ordinary military base with ordinary military teams, we'd all have been transferred off to different units already. Teams aren't supposed to get emotionally attached to one another, and ours was from almost day one."

"Which is total bull," Daniel replied. "How are you supposed to learn to trust someone to watch your back if you don't work with them long enough to find out what they're capable of doing?"

"Well, you're _supposed_ to just trust in the training provided by their branch of service," the colonel answered, "but I agree with you."

"Mark that on the calendar."

"Smartass. But there's also the 'familiarity breeds contempt' side of that particular argument, too."

He scowled. "I guess I got too 'familiar', huh?"

"No! No, nothing like that. I meant that there are some guys that get along with one another less the longer they work together. Oh, crap... that's what it's seemed like to you, hasn't it?" Spinning around, Jack dropped heavily onto the opposite bench and cradled his head on his hands. "You know what I found myself thinking after Anise forced me to talk about my 'feelings'? I kept thinking, 'oh, thank God it wasn't Daniel behind that forcefield.'" He looked up at Daniel. "I might have had to tell something that they couldn't ask."

Daniel blinked, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Excuse me?"

"I think... well, no, I'm pretty sure..." Jack took a deep breath and let it out. "I... er, admire you, Danny."

"Oh, _that's _nice." _Admire?_

"Uh, well, it's more than that... and has been for a while, now, but I was just too dense to see it for what it was. Until _you _showed me, that is: you're good at making me realize things, you know."

The emotionally-constipated colonel was _trying_ to say he had 'feelings' for him. Realizing he was gaping at his friend, Daniel shut his mouth and briefly closed his eyes. "Then why all the hostility... and the anger, and the... why the hell did you work so hard to push me away? Why did you stop talking to me and start yelling? Stop listening and start ignoring? Why, Jack?"

"Because I was afraid!" Jack shouted back, then looked somewhat embarrassed and lowered his voice. "I was scared, Daniel. After Carter and I... er, 'confessed', we both found ourselves under scrutiny. Both of us had our records gone over with a fine-toothed comb to see if my command had ever been comprised by inappropriate feelings for a subordinate, or if Carter had ever been given special treatment. Fraternization's a career killer, especially for women... sexist, I know, but that's the way it is."

Tentatively, he reached across the table and laid his right hand across Daniel's. "As bad as accusations of fraternization are, they're nothing compared to 'don't ask, don't tell'. At first, I thought I'd try to act like nothing had changed between us—me and Carter _or_ me and you—so that the watchdogs would see there was nothing _to_ see and back off."

"I'd say it worked... between you and me," Daniel replied, staring down at the darker hand atop his own. He was finding it hard to believe that Jack really returned his feelings.

"Actually, it didn't... not the way I intended. I kept double-checking myself, second-guessing. Thinking that maybe I was still too close to you, I'd back off a little more, treat you a little less like I wanted to, pretend you didn't mean any more to me than... Siler... or Pierce. Instead, I acted like a complete and utter ass. I didn't mean to push you away, Danny, but I forced myself to stop trying to keep you close. I went a little too far, and I am so, _so _sorry."

Feeling tears prickling his eyes, Daniel looked up and caught Jack's gaze. "Why didn't you tell me? Couldn't you have pulled me aside off-world and explained it to me?"

"Oh, that's easy to answer: I'm an idiot." Jack rolled his eyes. "Career guys like me don't usually start batting for the other team, if you catch my drift. And I didn't think I _was_ at first. I chalked it up to... frustrated paternal instincts first, brotherly affection after that. But it wasn't until you said... what you said... that I realized it was... what it was."

"You can't even say it, can you?" Daniel smirked, his friend's awkwardness and discomfort having a relaxing effect on him. Then he remembered what had brought the two of them to this small town in the middle of nowhere and cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sorry, Jack, but it's become obvious that you and I can't have any sort of feelings between us and continue to work together."

Jack's eyes widened. "Yes, we can! Now that we both know we feel, we can make sure it doesn't affect our 'working relationship'."

"Can we?" Frowning, Daniel pulled his hand out from beneath the older man's. "Jack, I kept my secret to myself for well over a year without it changing a thing between us. Then I accidentally let it slip when I thought I might lose you, and you spent the next several months flirting with Sam and treating me like _dirt_. You humiliated, insulted, and belittled me on multiple occasions, and I'm supposed to take your word that you won't go back to doing the same thing again? No, thanks!"

Pushing up from the table, he crossed his arms over his chest and began to pace, unaware that he was mirroring Jack's earlier motions. "I can't just turn off my feelings, Jack. Maybe _you_ can pretend you don't have them, but I can't. If we can't have anything between us and work together, then we simply can't work together. That's why I'm leaving."

Jack stood and stretched out his arms, catching Daniel by the shoulders and turning him to face him. "I'll retire. You're worth a _thousand _times what I am to the SGC. Come back, stay, give me another chance to _prove_ to you that we can make this work. If at any time—_any_ time—you think that I'm not holding up my end of the bargain, my resignation will be on Hammond's desk immediately. And if you're not completely disgusted by the sight of me, maybe we can try... you know... being something more."

Steeling himself, Daniel reached up and pulled off Jack's dark sunglasses. Once the barrier was gone, he looked into his friend's eyes, the deep chocolate pools that had once meant safety and friendship but lately had been distant and unwelcoming. Now, as he looked past his own reflection, he saw fear, regret, and such an intense longing, he felt himself drawn in before he was aware of his actions. One hand cupping Jack's jaw, he leaned in and touched their lips together. The older man was unyielding at first, but soon melted to the pressure, parting his lips to let him in, doing a little tentative exploration of his own in return. His right hand slid behind Daniel's head and his left arm went around the younger man's waist, pulling the two of them together.

Just when Daniel thought he would pass out from oxygen deprivation, Jack's grip loosened slightly, allowing him to pull back just enough to breathe. "Wow," he managed.

"Wow's right," Jack answered, a little breathless himself. "I've never kissed a guy before... never knew it could be so... so... wow!"

"Me neither," Daniel admitted. "But then again, I don't think gender's really the issue between us, is it? I love _you_, Jack."

"I... love you, too."

Daniel smiled, pulling Jack into another brief kiss. "That wasn't so hard to say, now was it?"

"Yes! But maybe I just need to practice." He stroked his thumb over Daniel's left cheekbone. "Come back, Danny, please. I can't go through the 'Gate without you with me, and Hammond'll have my head on a platter if he finds out I'm the reason you left. I _need_ you with me to keep me from making stupid decisions, and to tell me I'm being an idiot when I ignore you anyway and make me own stupid decision my own stupid self."

"I'll come back," Daniel answered, pressing the sunglasses into Jack's hand and stepping back, "but this is your last chance. Hurt me again and I'm gone. I'll be the first to admit that I have abandonment issues, and I _will_ leave if it means preventing being left behind again. I'm not that strong, Jack."

"You're the strongest person I know," Jack answered, grabbing for and catching Daniel's right hand so he could interlace their fingers. "How you can take all the crap I dish out and still... love me, I don't know, but I... admire you for that."

"Admire?"

"Love."

"That's better."

"You'll come back?"

"I'll come back," he answered, earning himself another breath-stealing kiss from Jack.

Suddenly, there was a wolf-whistle, and the men broke apart in embarrassment to see the gas station attendant grinning at them from the stoop of the back door, the garbage bag in her hand obviously intended for the dumpster next to the patio. Blushing furiously, Daniel turned and dove for his cell phone, pulling up Stephen's number so he could tell him there'd been a change of plans. Maybe he could offer his colleague a job at the SGC, instead.

Jack and Daniel had been at a crossroads in their lives, one which had nearly separated them forever. With a little luck—and a whole lot of love—their own Last Chance would thrive.


End file.
